


Until We Get it Right

by lalalindsey



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Episode: s11e17 Red Meat, Gen, Post-Episode: s11e17 Red Meat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-09-14 01:16:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16903350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lalalindsey/pseuds/lalalindsey
Summary: “I’m sorry, Sam.” he says.  “I know I shouldn’t have done it, alright.” But he can’t bring himself to inject the sincerity he knows should be in his voice. The only thing he knows is he would do it again. And again. For Sam.[Post Red Meat ficlet]





	Until We Get it Right

The car is much quieter than usual that afternoon. Dean chalks it up to Sam’s gunshot wound, among other things, and spends the first few hours driving while shooting furtive glances at his brother. He’s hoping Sam’s preoccupied enough with his own injuries to overlook the fact that Dean’s gut has twisted itself into a sickly knot, his chest a mess of bruising. 

It’s around the third hour when Sam starts glancing back, pursing his lips, and Dean knows he’s about to be in for it. Sure enough, Sam speaks. 

“What really happened, Dean?” he asks. Before Dean can respond, he cuts in “And spare me the crap. Just…seriously, man. We both know you wouldn’t have left me in that cabin if you knew I had any chance.” 

Dean grips the wheel a fraction tighter. Damn smart-ass little brothers. He should have known Sam wouldn’t believe his story. Even to himself, it sounded cheap. He swallows down the thick pain lacing his heart, clears his throat. No way around it now, he thinks, you brought this upon yourself, Dean, you selfish idiot. 

“I…alright, I may not have been tellin’ you the whole story.” 

Sam’s nostrils flare. “So tell me,” he says. 

Dean sighs. There is no way to sugarcoat it for Sam, no way of convincing him that what happened didn’t confirm his greatest fears. Sam already knows what he will say anyway, deep down, he must. Rip off the bandaid, Dean. 

“I had a talk with Billie.” He says finally. “I thought…Sammy you gotta understand, I thought you were dead-“ 

Sam is already moving, head jerking towards Dean. “Billie, the reaper?” he says, breathless anger. Then he’s moving, shaking his head, fingers through his hair. “Dean, tell me you didn’t, please tell me you didn’t do what I think you did-“ 

“It wasn’t like that, it was only for a few minutes, the doc brought me right back and everything, see? I had to talk to her, Sam, it was the only way!” 

“The only way?” says Sam incredulously. “God, Dean, you-“ he seems unable to collect himself for a moment before shaking his head again. 

“How could you do that?” he chokes. “After everything, how can you still throw your life away like that again?” 

Dean swallows. “Sam-“

“No, how could you do that to me?” 

“Sam, it wasn’t-“ 

“What would I have done? To come back to that? And find you- gone- just like that. Again.” Dean is startled to see Sam blinking back tears. 

He watches the pavement fly under the wheels for a few moments. 

“I’m sorry, Sam.” he says. “I know I shouldn’t have done it, alright.” But he can’t bring himself to inject the sincerity he knows should be in his voice. The only thing he knows is he would do it again. And again. For Sam. 

“This has to stop,” Sam says, “This-this self-sacrificing act you do, you’ve gotta stop this, Dean. “ 

“I can’t make that promise, Sam, you know I can’t.” 

“If you can’t do it for yourself,” says Sam quietly “then do it for me. Please.” 

Dean is quiet. The freeway hums by like a ribbon. He thinks about his life in simple terms. Wins. Losses. Failures. Deaths. None of it ever added up to much in his book, just a heaping weight of years that grows heavier by the day. 

Sam is watching him. He tries again. Thinks of his life in simple terms. What it means to Sam. What value Sam sees in it. It doesn’t help much, but he’d do anything for Sam, wouldn’t he? Damn if Dean has ever been able to deny the kid anything he asked. What was the difference, really, between living for Sam and dying for Sam? His bruised chest throbs as he exhales. Of course, it’s not a promise he can keep. It never really is, in their line of work. But maybe he can be more careful in the meantime. For Sam’s sake. He thinks of the way it felt to see Sam lying on that cabin floor. 

“Okay, Sammy.” he whispers. 

Sam’s eyes clear a bit of their anxious grief, and Dean thinks maybe this time, he can get it right.

**Author's Note:**

> I loved this episode but I know I'm not alone in wishing they hadn't brushed Dean's suicidal tendencies under the rug. Sorry if you've read a thousand other fics just like this one!


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